Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

Review - Bonnie and Clyde on Broadway

I've heard a lot of apologists for Bonnie & Clyde say that it was surprisingly good. You know, for a Frank Wildhorn show. Well, saying that Bonnie & Clyde is Wildhorn's least awful musical is sort of like saying leukemia is the most survivable form of cancer, or that Mitt Romney is the most electable Republican. They're still bad.

And Bonnie & Clyde is bad. True, the show, which closed on Broadway last week after only 36 performances, represents a vast improvement over such unmitigated dreck as Jekyll & Hyde and Dracula, but Bonnie & Clyde is nonetheless still well within the realm of the awful, and thus a perversely appropriate addition to the Wildhorn oeuvre.

Much like Wonderland, Wilhorn's most recent Broadway disaster, Bonnie & Clyde starts relatively strong. After a brief prologue that illustrates in graphic detail where our story will be heading, we get a dual character number, "This World Will Remember Me," which succinctly sets up the base motivations of both Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow.

But then, book writer Ivan Menchell seems hell-bent on making us feel sympathy for these sociopaths. Now, there's nothing wrong with an antihero in a musical, but for the treatment to be successful, you either need to have a larger, perhaps satirical, point that you're trying to make (as in Chicago) or you need to draw a clear line between understanding and approval (as in Sweeney Todd). In Menchell's book, there's a disturbing tendency to try to justify the horrific actions of Clyde Barrow in particular. While in prison, Clyde is shown at the mercy of menacing guards who take leering pleasure in pimping Clyde out to his fellow inmates. We also see the Ted Hinton character, a rival for Bonnie's affections, cause unprovoked physical harm to Clyde while he's in Hinton's custody. Aw, poor Clyde. It kind of felt like the beginning of "Gladiator" or "Death Wish" or "Robocop," or another of those reprehensible revenge-porn fantasies that try to justify violent acts with, "Well, he started it."

As for Wildhorn's music, well, he certainly has a way with a pleasant melody, but once again he falls victim to the Andrew Lloyd Webber ailment of choosing lyricists who debase rather than ennoble his music. Wildhorn fittingly partners here with lyricist Don Black, a frequent Lloyd Webber collaborator (Aspects of Love, Sunset Boulevard, Song and Dance), and the results are every bit as uninspired as in any of Black's Lloyd Webber shows.

Usually, the point at which Wildhorn loses me is the first bland power ballad, but in Bonnie & Clyde, my departure point was "When I Drive," in which Clyde and his brother Buck regale us about their love of cars. Yup, cars. I suppose this number was meant to show the bond between the brothers, and to establish their desire for material comforts, but for me it was the first in a series of questionable song motivations. Perhaps the most questionable was "Dyin' Ain't So Bad," a real howler of an 11 o'clock number in which Bonnie seems to cast off the strictures of dramatic irony and sings with impassioned resignation as to her inexorable fate.

Another point that the Bonnie & Clyde apologists seemed to harp on is the cast, and here they certainly have a point. As the despicable duo themselves, we have Laura Osnes and Jeremy Jordan, and they were indeed sensational in their respective roles. In the supporting cast, Claybourne Elder and Melissa Van Der Schyff were vivid and memorable in their portrayals of Clyde's brother Buck and his long-suffering wife. But, frankly, I've never been one to say that a show is worth seeing simply because of the cast. To me, that's kind of like saying that the sets and the costumes were cool, even if the show itself was wanting. I hope to see all four performers again very soon, perhaps in a piece more worthy of their talents.

On a final note, I just can't let the opportunity pass to ask one burning question: Who are these people that keep funding these Wildhorn musicals? Beyond the subjective quality of the shows at hand, it really seems that, as investors, they don't seem to be doing much in the way of due diligence. I mean, take a look at Wildhorn's Broadway track record:

Jekyll & Hyde
1543 performances
Closed at a loss

The Scarlet Pimpernel
772 performances
Closed at a loss

The Civil War
61 performances
Closed at a loss

Dracula
157 performances
Closed at a loss

Wonderland
33 performances
Closed at a loss

Bonnie & Clyde
36 performances
Closed at a loss

Talk about your diminishing returns. Now, Bonnie and Clyde reportedly only cost a relatively thrifty $6 million. That's about half of what you'd expect a typical Broadway musical to cost these days. Even so, I would respectfully submit to these fine people that their money would serve a far greater use in the long run if they, I don't know, maybe donated it to the Boston Conservatory. Think of it as an investment in the future of the musical theater. I can virtually guarantee a far more favorable return on your investment.

Review - Where's Charley? at Encores

Phew. I'm finally caught up with my blogging on this season's musicals. (And it wasn't always pretty, m'kay?) Also, I've submitted all of my grades at the Boston Conservatory, so I have a chance to go back and catch up on a few shows that I was able to see but haven't yet had the opportunity to blog about.

One show that fell between the blogging cracks for me was the delightful Encores production of Where's Charley?, which is just the sort of obscure little gem that we look to institutions like Encores to discover, dust off, and restore to its former luster. This lively little confection boasts music and lyrics by Frank Loesser and book by George Abbott, based on the fin de siècle farce Charley's Aunt by Brandon Thomas.

In retrospect, it's hard to imagine how such a charming show could drift into obscurity. Frank Loesser would, of course, go on to craft the scores to such notable shows as Guys and Dolls, The Most Happy Fella, and How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. The star of Where's Charley? was Ray Bolger, who was already a significant star of both stage and screen when the show premiered in 1948, and who won the second-ever Tony Award for best actor in a musical. The show ran for nearly 800 performances, which is about two years, but unfortunately the score was never recorded because of a musicians' strike.

The show's London production, starring Norman Wisdom, did receive a recording, but the CD is a long-out-of-print collector's item, although the recording is available in MP3 form, and on-demand through ArvivMusic. And Bolger recorded some of the songs independently, including "Make a Miracle" and "Once In Love With Amy," which are both available on this version of the Guys and Dolls cast recording.

The story to Where's Charley? isn't much to speak of. It's just one of those mistaken-identity, man-dresses-up-as-a-woman, (and-for-reasons-we-find-oh-so-droll-in-hindsight), door-slamming farces, and the plot complications are often ridiculously thin. (One woman becomes jealous of her suitor because of the picture of an attractive woman that he keeps on his piano. Oh, horror!) And the show's denouement rests upon a development that is every bit as predictable as it is flimsy.

However, Frank Loesser's score is charming, overflowing with a rich profusion of delights that hint strongly at the future genius of Guys and Dolls and How to Succeed (the latter of which I also saw, and thoroughly enjoyed, the same weekend I took in Where's Charley?). What's more, the songs clearly reflect the Rodgers & Hammerstein revolution, each serving a specific dramatic purpose within the context of the show. "My Darling, My Darling" is a lilting love song with surprisingly erudite lyrics, reflecting the education level of the characters. "Make a Miracle" is a comic list song that illustrates time and place by enumerating many of technological advances awaiting the show's late-19th-Century characters.

I wasn't quite sure of the relevance of "The New Ashmolean Marching Society and Students' Conservatory Band," although with Encores shows, that's often more a function of playwright David Ives' adaptations than a reflection on the quality of the original piece. Nonetheless, the score to Where's Charley? deserves a full, modern recording. Perhaps the Loesser estate could persuade (and by "persuade" I mean "pay") Tommy Krasker over at PS Classics to give the score the deluxe treatment it deserves.

Director John Doyle coaxed sharp characterizations from his uniformly talented cast, and provided them with sprightly staging for the songs. Most notable among the cast was Rob McClure as Charley, who had a winning stage presence, a vibrant way with a punchline, and who proved himself quite adept at physical comedy. It was also quite a delight to see Howard McGillin and Rebecca Luker, two of the finest voices of my generation, paired together on-stage, although I must confess that it's become increasingly distressing that performers who are roughly my age are suddenly being relegated to the parental roles. (I guess this means my ingénue days are officially over. Sigh.)

Mutiny! - CD Review and Contest

Shortly after I got out of college in the mid '80s, I took my first trip to London. It was my first time out of the country (unless you count my sixth-grade trip with the Boy Scouts to Montreal). Even then, I was a tad obsessive about musical theater, and in the six days we spent in London, we saw five shows.

The only reason we didn't see six shows was that, at the time, there were absolutely no shows that played on Sundays, and even now, there are only a handful. Of course, that number doesn't even begin to rival some of my more recent theatrical jaunts, at least in terms of daily dramatic density, but hey I was young, and short on funds.

Even so, we did get to see a fairly momentous array of shows, particularly in retrospect: Me and My Girl, Chess, Les Miserables, and Starlight Express. Yes, these shows all eventually made it to New York, but here's the important part: I saw them in London. And before anybody else I knew had even heard of most of them. At the time, that was very important to me, and I blush to admit it still holds a certain personal cachet.

We had lined up tickets to Les Miz, Chess, and Me and My Girl ahead of time, but then decided to take in Starlight Express upon arrival. Atrocious though that show may have been -- and still is -- I will never regret the night I spent at the Apollo Victoria Theatre, current home of the London production of Wicked. As I always say, as a teacher and student of musical theater, no night in the theater is ever a waste: I always learn something, even if it's what *not* to do. Starlight Distress, as I have dis-affectionately called the show ever since, taught me quite a lot about what makes bad musicals bad. Quite a lot.

It turns out that that particular trip to London also provided another opportunity to experience the instructive power of truly bad live theater, because we also decided to take in a performance of what was then a new musical called Mutiny!, based on the famed story of the mutiny on the Bounty. I'd like to think that my tastes in musical theater have refined over the decades, but even then, freshly out of college, I knew that Mutiny! was utterly dreadful.

I do have to say that the set to Mutiny!, designed by one William Dudley, was pretty frickin' amazing. Remember that this was the '80s, which was a time when Britain seemed to be coming into its own in musical theater, at least with respect to bloated blockbusters. It was a time of spectacle and excess, and Mutiny! was certainly no exception. The set for Mutiny! essentially comprised a scale replica of the good ship HMS Bounty, which rose on hydraulic lifts, spun around, and opened up to reveal the inner workings and compartments of the ship. When the boat opened up, the hull flattened out to form the playing space. It was an ingenious and impressive mechanical feat, one worthy of a much better show.

The music for Mutiny!, by David Essex, who also starred in the show as a would-be hunky Fletcher Christian, had a certain facile idiomatic flare, but the lyrics, by Essex and one Richard Crane, were utterly puerile and repetitive, sometimes both at the same time. One song, called "Friends," attempts to establish the relationship between Christian and Captain Bligh. Here's a sampling of the lyric:

Friends
You and I we, are friends
Friends right up to the end
We are friends

Once Bligh and Christian get to Tahiti, there's a song about breadfruit, which was the particular quarry and end-goal of the Bounty voyage. A sample lyric:

Breadfruit, breadfruit
Breadfruit trees
Food for the slaves
of the West Indies (with the stress on the last syllable: in-DEEZ)

But, why am I telling you all this? ("And you a...perfect stranger...") Well, because the Mutiny cast recording recently received its first CD release, and it gave me a chance to revisit the amateurish horror that was Mutiny!. I accidentally ordered an additional copy of the CD, and figured I'd offer it as a contest prize for one of my lucky readers.

"Um...wait, Chris. You just spent untold paragraphs trashing the show. Why would I want to win a copy of the CD?" A good question, my perspicacious reader. Because I know that many of you are just as obsessive as I am about musical theater, and equally fascinated with forgotten flops and turgid train wrecks.

So, here are some trivia questions directly and tangentially related to Mutiny! and its staff. I'll select a winner from the names of everyone who gets all of the following questions right, and that reader will become the proud owner of his or her very own Mutiny! CD. Sure to become a collectors item. And, heck, it's not *that* bad. As I said, some of the music is quite good, even if the lyrics are nearly unbearable. And don't tell me that you don't have a CD or two or some godawful shows that for some reason still fascinate you on some level.

[The contest is over. Thanks to everyone who participated. The winner has been notified. --C.C.]

So here goes. And best of luck.

1. David Essex had a fair amount of success as a pop singer in the '70s. What was his only Billboard Top 40 hit? ANSWER: "Rock On"

2. Which iconic historical role did Essex originate in the London production of a particular musical? And who will be playing that role in an upcoming Broadway revival of that show? ANSWER: I was going for Evita and Ricky Martin, but I would have accepted Godspell and Gavin Creel.

3. Name four Hollywood hunks who have played the character Fletcher Christian in movie versions of the Bounty mutiny. (Three are dead, and one might as well be.) ANSWER: Errol Flynn, Marlon Brando, Clark Gable and ::shudder:: Mel Gibson.

4. Mutiny! played London's Piccadilly Theatre. The next production at the Piccadilly will be the musical adaptation of what sentimental 1990 movie favorite? ANSWER: Ghost - The Musical

5. In the text above, I make the following veiled reference: "But, why am I telling you all this? ('And you a...perfect stranger...')" What 1980s musical am I alluding to here? ANSWER: "I Love a Film Cliche," from A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine.

Please enter your answers as comments below. I will only publish the comments after I have selected the winner.

Review - Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson on Broadway

When I first saw the new musical Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson during its well-received engagement at The Public Theater, the Wednesday evening audience didn't seem to be buying it. While I was certainly appreciating the snarky tone and smart parallels with our modern political scene, the sharp and energetic production was falling flat with the rest of the crowd. (Read my review of the Off Broadway Production.)

The one feature that I personally wasn't responding to was Michael Friedman's emo-rock score, which for me descended into an unremarkable and undifferentiated morass amid the rest of the smart goings-on.

Well, what a difference an audience makes. I recently took in the Broadway production of Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, and am happy to report that I and the rest of the audience were having a grand old time en masse.

I still find the score to Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson serviceable at best, but in truth the show's success lies in its libretto and direction by Alex Timbers. (Timbers is also directing the upcoming Broadway premiere of The Pee Wee Herman Show. I'm so excited, I can't tell you.) Much like Urinetown, Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson enjoys a remarkably united vision of direction, story, and performance, which coalesce into an entertaining package with surprising parallels to our modern political environment.

Of course, the show focuses on the eponymous Andrew Jackson, a politically polarizing figure who not only doubled the size of the United States and helped found the Democratic party, but also oversaw the systematic decimation of the Native American population. So, where's the modern resonance? Well, Jackson was also apparently a bit of a demagogue, deft at rousing the common man and woman into forceful political action with exhortations to "take this country back" and angry rhetoric against the "wealthy New England college fucks." (I'm thinking, however, that this latter remark is probably a fanciful product of Timbers' imagination rather than a direct quote from Congressional Quarterly.) Throw in some references to "maverick, egalitarian democracy" and the Faustian appeal of consolidated executive power, and what you essentially have is a chilling combination of the regrettable Tea Party movement and George W. Bush's political wet dream.

Also key to the show's effectiveness are the appealing cast members with a wicked and (nearly) unified approach to the sardonic material. Thankfully, the electrifying Benjamin Walker turned down a role in the upcoming X-Men movie prequel, and thus gets to repeat his dynamic portrayal of AJ himself. Walker is aided by a remarkable supporting cast, including Kristine Nielsen as the beleaguered narrator, Lucas Near-Verbrugghe as a delightfully fey Martin Van Buren, and an alternately daffy and intense Bryce Pinkham as Henry Clay/Black Fox. The one note of discord in the overall cast unity was Darren Goldstein, a seemingly talented performer whose relatively realistic line readings seemed out of sync with the style of the show.

Although I appreciated Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson far more upon second viewing, the show's main liability remains its energy arc. The show starts with a burst of activity and at first keeps that dynamic level going forward full steam. But around the two-thirds mark, the show's energy takes a decided turn downward. This is perhaps a deliberate choice: Jackson's grand vision is starting to blur, and it becomes clear that his historic legacy will remain controversial and divided. Although the gravity of the events certainly call for a more deliberate tone, the effect is rather like a roller coaster that starts off exhilarating, but toward the end of the ride requires its passengers to get out and push the car to the finish.

Even so, anyone who cares about the dramatic and polemic possibilities of musical theater will want to catch Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson. And while you're there, check out The Scottsboro Boys as well, which has lost none of its power to shock and move in its Broadway transfer. Check out my review of the Off-Broadway production, and look for my review of the Broadway version when the show opens next week.

Contest - Win a Life Begins at 8:40 CD

Remember in the old Steve Martin movie "The Jerk" when Navin Johnson gets all excited about seeing his name in the White Pages?

"The new phone book's here! The new phone book's here!...I'm somebody now! Millions of people look at this book every day! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity...that makes people!"

Well, it's no great exaggeration to say that's pretty much how I felt earlier today when I received my copies of Life Begins at 8:40, the recent release from PS Classics for which I -- you're not-so-humble blogger -- wrote the frickin' liner notes. (See my previous embarrassingly gushy post.) The CD is available for pre-order now on Amazon and CD Universe, but since the good folks at PS Classics saw fit to send me a few extra copies, I thought I'd give one away as part of a little contest for my readers.

Here are five questions based on the various personnel who were involved in the original 1934 production of Life Begins at 8:40. I'll select a winner at random from the people who answer all the questions correctly. Please use the comments function below to submit your response. (Don't worry about other people seeing your answers. I moderate the comments on my blog, and I won't publish the answers until I've selected a winner.) The deadline for submission is midnight Friday, June 4th. [The drawing has taken place. Thanks to everyone who entered. I will be contacting the winners individually. --C.C.]

Good luck. And enjoy.

1. Composer Harold Arlen would go on to write the music for numerous Broadway shows, including one featuring a feminist storyline about the invention of a certain form of female undergarment. What was the name of this show? [ANSWER: Bloomer Girl (1944)]

2. Co-lyricist Yip Harburg was recently represented on Broadway in a short-lived (sniff) revival of what is probably his best-known show. What is the name of the show? [ANSWER: Finian's Rainbow (1947)] 

3. Co-lyricist Ira Gershwin took a break from working with his brother George to collaborate with Harburg on Life Begins at 8:40. George was otherwise engaged writing the ambitious score to which Gershwin masterpiece? [ANSWER: Porgy and Bess (1935)]

4. Bert Lahr appeared in a number of Broadway musicals during his long career. For which show did he win a Tony Award? [ANSWER: Foxy (1964)]

5. Ray Bolger was well known primarily for his virtuosic dancing in various revues prior to Life Begins at 8:40, but he became a true leading man when he went on to star in which Rodgers and Hart show? [ANSWER: On Your Toes (1936). Quite a few people answered By Jupiter (1942), but Bolger's role in On Your Toes was a genuine starring role, and it's what solidified him as a leading man in the eyes of Broadway producers. But in deference to readers who didn't think On Your Toes was a starring role, I entered everyone who answered By Jupiter into the drawing as well.] 

EXTRA CREDIT: What other project do Harold Arlen, Yip Harburg, Bert Lahr, and Ray Bolger have in common? [ANSWER: "The Wizard of Oz" (1939)]

CD Preview - Life Begins at 8:40

OK, first let me set the scene here. Picture me, roughly the age of 13, perusing my already voluminous number of cast recordings, poring obsessively through the liner notes. It could have been the original cast recording of Sweeney Todd, Evita, Barnum, A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, or perhaps even March of the Falsettos.

Of course, at the time, the recordings would have been in the form of LPs, all in a pile strewn across my bedroom floor. The great thing about LP cast albums was they often had gatefold interiors that opened to reveal adult-size production notes, pictures, essays, and synopses. And I devoured them all with the brio of a star-struck, musical-obsessed little Nancy boy. I can still remember some of the names contained therein: the Martha Swopes, the Thomas Z. Shepherds, the Goddard Liebersons, the Kevin Kellys. Who were these people? How did they come to be involved in this hallowed process? And how could I become one of them?

Cut to 2010. I'm in the midst of correcting final exams, when I get a phone call from Tommy Krasker, executive producer at PS Classics. Now, Tommy and I had been in touch off and on for years. I think he contacted me about a glowing review that I wrote of one of the shows that his label recorded, although I can't recall which show. Possibly Adding Machine, or maybe A Catered Affair. Anyway, I took the opportunity to put a bug in Tommy's ear about giving me the chance to fulfill a life-long dream of writing the liner notes for a cast recording. He was actually very positive about the possibility, but I didn't hear back from him about it, although we did continue to correspond, albeit infrequently.

So, back to the phone call. Tommy said that the person who was supposed to write an essay to accompany the upcoming PS Classics release of the obscure but delightful 1930s revue Life Begins at 8:40 was unable to meet the already-passed deadline, and would I be able to scare something up in impossibly short order?

"Can I roller-skate?!"

As soon as I hung up, I made a beeline for my theater bookcase and amassed a pile of books to begin my research. For the uninitiated, Life Begins at 8:40 was a lavish Broadway revue in the traditional of the Ziegfeld Follies and George White's Scandals. In fact, Life Begins at 8:40 was going to be another in the Ziegfeld series, the famed Shubert Brothers having purchased the rights to the Follies after the great Zeigfeld's death. But legal problems arose, and the show eventually came to be called Life Begins at 8:40. The title is a reference both to the 1932 bestseller Life Begins at 40, and to the typical curtain time for Broadway shows of the era.

The show starred Bert Lahr and Ray Bolger, five years before they would make "The Wizard of Oz" together. In a bit of additional Pre-Oz synergy, both Harold Arlen (composer) and E.Y. Harburg (lyricist) worked on the score. Ira Gershwin also contributed lyrics to the show while his brother George was busy with a little thing called Porgy and Bess. The Broadway production of Life Begins at 8:40 opened at the Winter Garden Theatre in August of 1934 and closed in March of 1935, after a then-respectable run of 237 performances.

The new CD will be the first-ever complete recording of the score from the show, and features a veritable who's who of contemporary Broadway scene, including Kate Baldwin, Christopher Fitzgerald, Montego Glover, Rebecca Luker, Brad Oscar, and Faith Prince. The recording will be released on June 8th, but you can pre-order it on Amazon or CD Universe, or you can wait and download the tracks from Amazon or iTunes. Whatever you do, please don't download the songs from an illegal file-sharing site. The good folks at PS Classics work tremendously hard, and if it weren't for people like Tommy Krasker we wouldn't have a chance to hear previously undiscovered gems like Life Begins at 8:40 and Kitty's Kisses. And if it weren't for Tommy, I might not have had the chance to fulfill a lifelong dream. So, do us all a favor, and pay for your music. In the long run, you'll be glad that you did.

I Won't Trade, Don't Ask Me

No sooner did I receive my CD of the current revival of A Little Night Music than I also received a request from someone to share the MP3 files. The request was from someone on a site for cast-recording collectors. He sent a link with all of the titles in his collection, offering to make a trade.

I have no intention of even replying to the email, but it did put me in mind of a conversation I had recently with a fellow blogger about how PS Classics, the company that released the A Little Night Music CD, is perilously close to going out of business. And that's because people like my fellow OCR aficionado aren't willing to actually pay for the music that they listen to.

So I dug through my blog archives for this post, which makes my position on file-sharing quite clear. Let me me painfully blunt: file-sharing is selfish, stupid, and short-sighted. And it's stealing. If we're not willing to buy cast albums, then there won't be any to buy. If you download commercially available cast recordings that you haven't paid for, then you're no friend of mine. I don't even want you reading this blog. Go listen to your stolen music. But just remember that you're putting small, struggling companies out of business, and that you're jeopardizing the very future of cast recordings themselves.

So be forewarned, my friends: I won't trade. Don't ask me.

Reviews - Finian's Rainbow and Kate Baldwin CDs

For me, there's no greater pleasure than sitting down to listen to the cast recording of a beloved show. Of course, I'll buy practically anything, irrespective of whether I've seen the show. Years ago, my cousin Joanne asked me why I would buy the cast recording for a production I hadn't seen. I sputtered at first, for lack of comprehension. Why would one need to have seen a show to enjoy a cast recording, I eventually replied. I wasn't alive to see Ethel Merman in Gypsy, but I can still marvel in her clarion call of a voice on what might just be the greatest score of all time.

In deference to my cousin, I will say that cast recordings are that much sweeter when I have seen the production in question. It's one of the reasons why I'm so delighted with the new PS Classics release of Finian's Rainbow. Alas, this production of Finian's Rainbow played its final performance at the St. James Theater in January. I saw the show once at Encores (read my review) and twice on Broadway (read my review and my re-review). My take on the show itself varied, but my reaction to the score was steadfast: it's a gem. Fortunately, the good folks at PS Classics have done their usual bang-up job of preserving classic and quality shows, which now includes this nonpareil score from composer Burton Lane and lyricist Yip Harburg.

Sure, there are more cohesive and integrated scores, particularly those from some of the Rodgers and Hammerstein shows. But I'll be damned if I can think of another score from this or any period that has as many genuinely tuneful, funny, and charming numbers as Finian's Rainbow. There honestly isn't a single bad number in the bunch. Lane and Harburg run the full gamut from sweet lyricism ("Look to the Rainbow") to charm songs ("Something Sort of Grandish") to rousing production numbers ("If This Isn't Love") to wry social comment ("Necessity"). And when you've got the personable and professional likes of Kate Baldwin, Cheyenne Jackson, Jim Norton, Christopher Fitzgerald, and Terri White to sing such a gem of a score, well, all the better.

This recording of Finian's Rainbow captures so much of what made the show charming, particularly Kate Baldwin's stirring soprano voice and Christopher Fitzgerald's impish playfulness. And what a delight it is to hear Terri White's husky voice emanate from my stereo once more. In younger days, I practically wore out my LP of Barnum, particularly White's bravura take on "Thank God I'm Old."

Rediscovering Finian's Rainbow got me to thinking about other shows that feature the worth of Burton and Harburg. Both gentlemen had distinguished careers as songwriters, but neither really hit it all that big on Broadway. Harburg's other shows include the underrated Bloomer Girl, the joyous but forgettable Jamaica, and the utterly bizarre Flahooley. None of these shows was particularly successful financially, and Flahooley was a outright bomb. Lane's most memorable shows, other than Finian's, were On a Clear Day You Can See Forever and Carmelina, both of which have much to recommend them, although as a whole they're rather unfulfilling. 

But as is often the case with talented creators, even their biggest flops contain diamonds in the rough. Which is one of the reasons that Kate Baldwin's new solo CD, Let's See What Happens, is such a delight. As a sort of Finian's tie-in, PS Classics has also recorded and released this compilation of musical delights, mostly from the various shows and movies that Lane and Harburg contributed to over the years. And who better to interpret these songs than the dazzling Ms. Baldwin.

Notable tracks on the CD include "That Something Extra Special," from Darling of The Day, and as definitive as Patricia Routledge is on the show's cast recording, Baldwin more than holds her own. Baldwin also charms on "Here's to Your Illusions" from the aforementioned Flahooley. Again, Baldwin proves a genuine match for another formidable lady, the lovely Barbara Cook, who performed the song on the train-wreck fascinating Flahooley recording. The Baldwin CD also unearths a few little-known (or at least unknown to me) gems, including "I Like the Likes of You" from The Ziegfeld Follies of 1934, and "Have Feet, Will Dance" from the 1957 TV musical "Junior Miss." 

The CD errs on the side of the slow and contemplative ballad, and although I'm usually more of an uptempo guy, Baldwin's clean and rounded delivery make for energizing listening even on the slowest of slow songs. I really hope this woman has a long and successful career ahead of her. She's enchanting both on-stage and in the studio. It's lovely combination.

Finian's Rainbow Revival Will Close January 17th

Another one bites the dust. No sooner had Ragtime posted its closing notice than Finian's Rainbow almost immediately followed suit. The show will end its run at the St. James Theater on January 17th, having played 92 regular performances and 22 previews. With a run that short, it's very unlikely that the show was able to make back its investment.

I must confess that, as big a fan as I am of Ragtime, I'm just a bit sadder to see Finian's Rainbow shutter. I wasn't all that taken with the show during its Encores run at City Center (read my review). As is often the case with Encores shows, the book was significantly truncated, which had a deleterious effect on my enjoyment of the show.

But when I saw the show on Broadway (read my review), I was captivated by its many charms, including the sensational score by Burton Lane and E.Y. "Yip" Harburg, and a dynamite cast, headed by  the dazzling Kate Baldwin, the sexy Cheyenne Jackson, as well as Jim Norton and Christopher Fitzgerald in delightful supporting roles. Director/choreographer Warren Carlyle whipped the production up into a charming, frothy, good-time of a show, one that I found much more artistically satisfying than the current production of Ragtime. Sure, they're radically different shows, and the comparison is a bit unfair, but that's my gut response to their relative closure announcements.

The producers of Finian's Rainbow blame the show's demise on the "economic realities of Broadway today." Closure announcements are always full of bluster and grandstanding: no one ever comes out and says the truth. But as I see it, the producers made an unwise decision in bringing the show to Broadway. As much as I enjoyed this production, and hope to see it again before it closes, it just wasn't a show that the ticket-buying public was crying out to see, economic vicissitudes notwithstanding.

It's probably good that I don't have the money to invest in shows, because I'm pretty sure I'd be terrible at deciding which shows the public is going to respond to. If I had had the opportunity to invest in either Ragtime or Finian's Rainbow, I'd have backed Ragtime, no contest. Yeah, I know, that seems to contradict what I just said above about which production I enjoyed more. But here I'm talking about what my prospective take would have been on which production would have had the greater chance of success, before I had had a chance to see either. Because that's when producers write their checks: before the show goes up, not after it becomes a success. Of course, I would have lost it all no matter which show I had chosen. But I really thought that Ragtime had a chance, and I genuinely believe it didn't get a fair shake the first time around. Ergo, it's a good thing I'm not an investor.

I'm headed down to New York next weekend to see A Little Night Music and Ernest in Love. When Ragtime announced it was closing, I also grabbed a discount ticket to see the show again that weekend, to see if perhaps it had coalesced into a stronger production since I saw it early in previews. Perhaps I'll also have to get a ticket to Finian's Rainbow to see if the brimming effervescence remains.

The Best Musicals of the 2000s - Part 2

Following up on yesterday's list, here are my remaining choices for the best musicals of the 2000s. Feel free to carp, snipe, and otherwise disagree. But, in my humble estimation, these ten musicals represent the best that Broadway and Off-Broadway had to offer over the past ten years.

10. Xanadu: I loves me some Xanadu. I saw the show three times on Broadway, and each time was a delight. (Read my review, my re-review, and my re-re-review.) Some found the show's appeal limited, or even nonexistent. One joke in the show refers to itself as children's theater for 40-year-old gay men. Many people seemed to agree, and failed to find the any charm in the show. Frankly, I pity those people. Xanadu wore its satiric heart on its sleeve, to be sure, and absolutely nothing in the show was meant to be taken seriously. It wasn't just another jukebox musical; it was a satire of jukebox musicals. Librettist Douglas Carter Beane took one of the worst movies of all time and turned it into a night of hilarity and frivolity. That's no small feat, and I for one can't wait to catch the show again as the national tour wends its way to Providence, R.I.

9. A Man of No Importance: No list of the best musicals of the past decade would be complete without the presence of Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens. In my humble opinion, Flaherty and Ahrens are the most talented writing pair we currently have in musical theater. At their best, we get Ragtime and Once on This Island. But even when they misfire, we still get My Favorite Year or The Glorious Ones. A Man of No Importance may turn out to be their best show. There's a seriousness of intent and a quiet dignity than in many respects surpasses those of their other shows. And the show certainly doesn't skimp on entertainment or comedy. But, most important, it reflects the desire that Flaherty once told me that he and Ahrens have for all their shows: to give voice to the underrepresented and to bring about social change. And with the able assistance of their Ragtime librettist, Terrence McNally, Flaherty and Ahrens achieve those goals with A Man of No Importance, and without making the show strident or preachy. That's certainly no mean feat.

8. Grey Gardens: The 2006-2007 Broadway season gave rise to two very different musicals, with nonetheless similar development arcs. Both Spring Awakening and Grey Gardens began their professional lives Off-Broadway at non-profit theaters: Atlantic Theatre Company and Playwrights Horizons, respectively. But, other than the fact that they are both musicals, the similarity really ends there. And, as is so often the case when there are two strong shows in a given season, theater aficionados tend to form camps, championing their favorite, to the dismissive exclusion of the other. I know that many of my readers are in the Spring Awakening camp. I am not. Both shows are worthy in their own ways, and each has its flaws, but for me Grey Gardens was significantly more powerful and better crafted. Many took issue with the first act of Grey Gardens, but I saw it as an intentional homage to the typical musicals of the time period. And the second act is simply devastating. Some people implied that Grey Gardens was for the fogies while Spring Awakening appealed to more youthful theatergoers. If that's true, I'll gladly accede to fogy-dom. 

7. The Drowsy Chaperone: Quite a few recent shows have made affectionate fun of musical theater, including Urinetown, Xanadu, and Bat Boy, all of which appear elsewhere on this list. But The Drowsy Chaperone holds a special place in my heart, no doubt because I identified so strongly with "Man in Chair," played with great warmth and minor neurosis by co-librettist Bob Martin. The conceit of the show is that Man in Chair puts on one of his favorite cast records -- yes, records -- and the show comes to life around him, turning his dreary New York City basement apartment into a frothy 1920s musical comedy. The show was nothing but fun, and that's exactly what I had each of the three times I've seen the show: fun. Some of the songs are a bit lame, perhaps intentionally so. But the overall feel of the show was infectious, and the talented original cast, including Sutton Foster, Georgia Engel, Edward Hibbert, Beth Leavel, and Danny Burstein. was an unmitigated pleasure to watch. I dearly hope one day to actually play Man in Chair. And I don't care who I have to step over to get the part. (Hear that, Ricky?)

6. Bat Boy: Fans of musical theater have a lot to thank Alan Menken and the late Howard Ashman for. These men single-handedly (well, double-handedly) created an entirely new sub-genre of musical theater with their wonderful Little Shop of Horrors. That genre: The Campy Off-Broadway Bloodbath. Granted, it took almost two decades for the genre to take off, but once it did we got a profusion of small shows with camp factors of 11 and body counts higher than that of Hamlet. Some of these shows were quite good (cf. Urinetown, Reefer Madness). Others, well, not so much. (cf. The Toxic Avenger, Evil Dead). Among the best was Bat Boy, which is easily one of the funniest shows I've ever seen, at least in its original Off Broadway production. The show closed prematurely in the aftermath of 9/11, but it has since gone on to become a staple in regional theater. It couldn't happen to a nicer half-boy/half-rodent.

5. The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee: Easily my sentimental favorite of the decade, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee is an absolute joy. I think a lot of us theater nerds saw ourselves in these misfit kids and their outside-the-mainstream passion for spelling. And William Finn created one of his best scores for the show, one full of humor, heartbreak and warmth. I thought at first I might be a bit biased: when I saw the show at the Second Stage, I was one of the onstage audience member spellers, and I was the last one eliminated, a fact of which I remain quite proud. (Read my original post here.) But I've since seen the show on tour and at its birthplace, the Barrington Stage, and I still had a ball even when I wasn't on stage. The show seems poised for a long and healthy afterlife, and I hope someday to play Vice Principal Douglas Panch. And I don't care who I have to step over to get the part. (Hear that, Ricky?)

4. The Light in the Piazza: I have a confession: I didn't really like The Light in the Piazza the first time I saw it. I guess I wasn't smelling what composer/lyricist Adam Guettel and librettist Craig Lucas were cooking, at least not at first. The show is often quiet and slow, and the music can be difficult to take in on a first hearing. Thankfully, The Light in the Piazza received a TV broadcast shortly before it closed, and I've since had the chance to watch the video again and again, each time finding more to appreciate and more to fall in love with. Likewise, repeated hearings of the score revealed an emotional richness and subtlety that few musicals strive for, let alone achieve. I greatly look forward to seeing what Guettel comes up with next, now that The Princess Bride appears to be a goner. Let's hope it's not another ten-year gap, as we had between Floyd Collins and Piazza.

3. Avenue Q: So much more than just a smart and funny new musical, Avenue Q represented something of an economic watershed. The show came seemingly out of nowhere, snatched the Tony for best musical from the hands of Wicked, and proved that small shows could make a profit on Broadway. Conventional wisdom held that, in order to make money, musicals needed to be huge, with elaborate sets and lots of theatrical pyrotechnics. Wrong. If it weren't for Avenue Q, we might not have seen many of the musicals on this list make it to Broadway, including Spelling Bee, Xanadu, and The Drowsy Chaperone. And now that Avenue Q has made the almost unprecedented move from Broadway to Off Broadway, the show appears to have opened yet another...well, avenue...for smaller shows to follow. Beyond that, it's also a very good show, full of wit, wisdom, and an entrancingly tuneful score by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx. Even if it hadn't rewritten the rules, Avenue Q would still have made this list for the sheer quality of the writing.

2. Adding Machine: I had a really hard time deciding which show to place first on this list, but ultimately I had to make a decision. A tie would have been too annoying, and a bit lazy. But I could just as easily have justified putting Adding Machine first. I was simply blown away by this show. It wasn't just Joshua Schmidt's dynamic and eclectic score, or his and Jason Loewith's faithful adaptation of Elmer Rice's original play. It was also David Cromer's brave, uncompromising direction. The show starts off as a tale of the faceless everyman, but it quickly veers into far more subversive and satisfying territory. I greatly look forward to seeing the show again when Boston's Speakeasy Stage produces it this spring. If you're in the Boston area, I urge you to check it out. If not, I highly recommend the cast recording. This is a show to be experienced and savored. Truly one for the ages.

1. Urinetown: An unlikely masterpiece. Rarely have I experienced a musical that was so cohesive, so united in its intent, so solid in its execution as Urinetown. Mark Hollmann's score is a direct homage to Kurt Weill, and the show itself is partly a re-imagining of Marc Blitzstein's seminal The Cradle Will Rock. But Urinetown is so much more than that. It's also a shrewd satire of theater itself, and musical theater in particular, and that's really the level upon which the show truly shines. The book by Greg Kotis basically asks "What is the worst possible idea for a musical?" And the answer that it provides is nothing less than brilliant, and frequently hilarious to boot. In the original production, director John Rando kept all the actors on the same satiric page, and choreographer John Carrafa made comic reference to everyone from Bob Fosse to Gower Champion. The show has really caught on in the provinces, a fact that I find both gratifying and a bit surprising. Thankfully there appears to be room in the hearts and minds of the theater-going public for more than just Andrew Lloyd Webber and Mamma Mia. 

Honorable mention: [title of show]: I couldn't finish up this list without making mention of [title of show]. I genuinely considered placing it somewhere on this list, but I decided that I needed to separate my affection for the show from an objective view of its inherent quality. I had a marvelous time both times I saw [title of show] on Broadway. I inadvertently bought a ticket to the show's first Broadway preview, an experience that was alternately thrilling and annoying: thrilling because of the sheer energy that permeated the proceedings, but annoying because of the exaggerated ovations and disproportionate response that each number, and seemingly every line, received from the [tos]-ser faithful. When I went back the next day, the show received a more moderated and realistic response, and while I once again genuinely enjoyed myself, I had to question whether the show would appeal to the general public. And, as it turns out, [title of show] wasn't able to cross over and attract a mainstream audience. I remain an ardent fan of Hunter Bell's sweet and witty book. But I also remain unimpressed by Jeff Bowen's music and lyrics. The music is fine for what it is, if somewhat derivative, but the lyrics are full of bad scansion ("car-RIE", "mar-RY"), filler lines ("And if they like us, will they mic us, me and you?"), and bland repetition ("Filling out the form, filling out the form...", "Festival medley, festival medley..."). I have great affection for [title of show], mostly because of its unapologetic and unbridled love of musical theater. But, as for being a genuinely well-crafted show, I'm afraid that it comes up just a little short.

Ernest in Love at the Irish Repertory Theater

I apologize, dear reader, for my extended absence from blogging. I've recently added staged readings to my musical-theater history course at the Boston Conservatory, and for the past week or so I've been busy putting on Little Johnny Jones, the first of what I hope to be a regular series of historically significant but underperformed musicals. The show went extremely well (thank you for asking), and now I can return my attention to you, dear reader.

There's certainly plenty of developments to address on the musical front, what with shows posting closing notices left and right, and quite a few others rumored to be closing soon as well. And I'm also planning a series of posts with my choices for the best and worst musicals of the first decade of the 2000s. Look for more on show closings and end-of-the-decade lists in the days to come.

But first, I wanted to talk about a recent press release that I got from the Irish Repertory Theatre. I've been getting a lot of press invites and news releases lately, so much so that I almost deleted this particular email without reading it. But then I caught the name of the show in question in the subject line: Ernest in Love. And my heart swooned a little. 

I've always had a very soft place in my heart for Ernest in Love, which is a musical version of Oscar Wilde's comic masterwork, The Importance of Being Earnest. First off, my first name is actually Ernest. I go by middle name, Chris, because my father goes by Ernest, and so did my grandfather, and since he was living with the family at the time of my birth, that was a few too many Ernies for my mother to contend with. So I've always been known as Chris. But I also did Ernest in Love in college, with a cast and crew that comprised many of my best friends from college, a significant number of whom remain close and dear friends to this day. (Ricky, Mikey, and Kerry: I adore you one and all.) 

But sentimental attachments aside, Ernest in Love is also a damn fine little show, at least in my possibly revisionist recollections, with a rousing and tuneful score by Anne Croswell (music) and Lee Pockriss (lyrics). The show had a very short run Off Broadway in 1960, but received a cast recording that, until it was recently released on CD, was one of the most valuable and collectible cast recordings on LP. The recording is unfortunately hampered by some rather weak male singing voices, but the females are an unqualified delight. It's one of those scores that I return to again and again, and never fails to put a smile on my face.

The folks at the Irish Rep have certainly brought in some talented Broadway ringers for the cast, including Noah Racey as Jack Worthing and Beth Fowler as Lady Bracknell. But will the production do justice to my (impossibly?) fond memories of the show? Or am I simply glorifying Ernest in Love in hindsight? Watch for my review in early January.

The Sound of Music 50th Anniversary CD -- Plus a Contest

Well, ladles and jelly spoons, it has officially been a half a century since the Broadway premier of The Sound of Music. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the original Broadway production, Sony has released a special commemorative CD of the original cast recording.

As is customary for these re-releases, this recording includes a number of bonus cuts, which here include a track from the long-out-of-print Julie and Carol at Carnegie Hall. Three years before Julie Andrews would appear in what is now her most iconic role, she sang a parody version of The Sound of Music with Carol Burnett called "From Switzerland: The Pratt Family." The results are moderately amusing, but hardly memorable, but perhaps it will tide us over until Columbia decides to re-release the full CD. 

The two remaining bonus cuts are of marginally greater interest. There's a German version of "Edelweiss" culled from the first-ever Viennese production of The Sound of Music. And perhaps most interesting is the cut with Tommy Körberg, of Chess fame, doing a stirring rendition of "Climb Every Mountain" ("Sök dig till bergen").

And then there's the cast recording itself. Every year, in my musical-theater history course, we briefly (very briefly) discuss The Sound of Music, and I posit the notion that, while the show is a sentimental favorite among theatergoers, it in fact represents a regression in quality on the part of Rodgers and Hammerstein. A number of my students invariably react as though I've kicked a puppy. But these students are likely reflecting their affection for the movie version of "The Sound of Music," which in many respects is a considerable improvement over the stage show. Despite the immense popularity that the film has engendered, neither the film nor the stage play can even come close to the artistry of Oklahoma!, Carousel, or The King and I, nor even South Pacific, for that matter, and regular readers will recall that I consider South Pacific to be the most overrated musical ever.

But I must confess a certain fondness for The Sound of Music. I grew up listening to a bunch of LPs that my parents had of various stage shows and movie musicals, although in retrospect it's strange that they even had those LPs since they never really listened to music at all. But I did, and I greedily devoured the cast recordings to Godspell, Mame, and Oliver, as well as the soundtracks to "West Side Story" and "The Sound of Music." That's probably where my obsession with musical theater began, so I guess I have my parents to thank for that. I was particularly taken with "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria," and would flounce around the house singing it incessantly, singing all of the parts myself. (OK, so where does *that* fall on the Gay-O-Meter? Off the frickin' chart, huh?)

But I've never really been a fan of the cast recording of The Sound of Music. Perhaps my own initial fondness for the soundtrack has prevented me from ever truly enjoying the cast recording, or maybe it's because it was at this point in Mary Martin's career that her voice started to show some wear. In the '40s, Martin had a lovely resonance in her low notes and a slight delicacy to her upper range. But by the end of the '50s, Martin's lower range had become overly pronounced and mannish, while her upper range grew thin and raspy. So, I'll probably file this CD in my collection, and if I ever do get the urge to indulge in some old-fashioned R&H treacle, I'll probably just bust out the movie soundtrack or throw in the DVD.

And now, guys and dolls, for the fun part: The first ever EIKILFM trivia contest! I have an extra copy of the 50th anniversary CD to give away to one lucky reader. Below are five questions regarding The Sound of Music. Respond below with your answers, and in the very likely event that more than one person gets all of the questions correct, I'll select a winner randomly from those entries. (Don't worry about tipping other readers off to the answers. I won't publish the comments until I've selected a winner)

Good luck!

SOUND OF MUSIC TRIVIA CONTEST 

1. Name a song from the stage version of The Sound of Music that wasn't in the film.

2. Name a song from the film of The Sound of Music that wasn't in the stage version.

3. What was the last song that Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote together?

4. What role did Oscar Hammerstein *not* perform on The Sound of Music that he did perform on every other R&H show?

5. With what other show did The Sound of Music share its Best Musical Tony Award?

[CONTEST DEADLINE: 11/13/2009]

Desk Clearing: West Side Spanish, Birdie Dance, Nine Movie, and Ragtime Logo

A number of things have been making me cranky lately. Not sure if it's just my mood, or if these items are genuinely annoying. So, rather than addressing each item separately, I figured I'd just get them all out of the way in one peevish post.

Bye Bye Birdie - The New York Daily News reports that the star of the upcoming Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie, Gina Gershon, won't be performing the show's iconic Shriner's Ballet. The article quotes Gershon as saying the dance was cut because it was too "gang rape-y." As other commentators have pointed out, that's never seemed to be a problem before, despite being Tams-Witmark's number-one show for decades. The more likely explanation: Gershon can't handle the dance. If they're so concerned about modern sensibilities, will Gershon be performing the regressive and sexist "An English Teacher"? Will the chorus girls still be fawning and fainting to the salacious sight of Conrad Birdie's gyrating hips? The show is a period piece. If you don't like the period, don't do the piece.
Peeve Factor: 7 out of 10. If you want to see a real pro in action, click here to watch Chita Rivera perform the Shriner's Ballet.

West Side Story - According to the New York Times, the current smash-hit Broadway revival of West Side Story has changed back much of the show's much-touted Spanish to the original English lyrics and text. As you may know, director Arthur Laurents brought in Lin-Manuel Miranda (In the Heights) to translate huge chunks of the show into Spanish. The article quotes Laurents as saying the Spanish was "an experiment." Yeah, a failed experiment. As I've written about in my reviews of the show itself and of the CD, I wasn't a fan of the Spanish text. I found it alienating and thought it robbed two terrific songs ("I Feel Pretty" and "A Boy Like That/I Have a Love") of their humor, pathos, and drama. But I also thought that Miranda's lyrics didn't match the quality of Sondheim's original work.
Peeve Factor: 5 out of 10, mitigated by the fact that they've, for the most part, reverted to the infinitely preferable original words.

"Nine" - The more I hear about Rob Marshall's forthcoming film version of Nine, the less excited I become. First, the delectable Javier Bardem dropped out, replaced by the talented but IMHO considerably less sexy Daniel Day Lewis. Now, according to Playbill, Maury Yeston has provided three new songs for the movie: "Guarda la Luna," "Cinema Italiano," and "Take it All." Which is fine, but to make room, they're cutting at least five of the original songs: "Simple," "Be On Your Own," "Grand Canal," "Nine," "The Bells of St. Sebastian's." Boo and grrr. (For a detailed discussion of the cut and added songs, check out a post by my friend Kevin at Theatre Aficionado at Large.)
Peeve Factor: 9 out of 10. Pun intended. I'm not a knee-jerk purist, but the movie is going to need to be pretty spectacular to make up for the butchering of the score. Of course, the "Sweeney Todd" film involved a tremendous amount of cutting as well, and I raved about that movie in my review. So, the jury's still out, despite my current annoyance.

Ragtime - The press folk for the upcoming Broadway revival of Ragtime have recently been touting the new visual identity for the production. (See left) Apparently, it's the work of some famous Italian illustrator. Whatever, it's washed-out, flat, and unmemorable. Plus, the physical arrangement seems borrowed from the logo to The Secret Garden. Of course, I was also nonplussed by the logos for Hair and A Catered Affair, and impressed by that of Cry-Baby. So there's no necessary connection between the quality of an individual show and that of its marketing materials.
Peeve Factor: 2 out of 10. Like many of you, I'm simply thrilled that Ragtime is getting another chance on Broadway. During its original run, it was overshadowed by The Lion King and hampered by irresponsible -- and now felonious -- producing.

Vanities at the Second Stage Theater

As you may know, the new musical Vanities was slated to open at Broadway's Lyceum Theater this past season, but the run was canceled when the economy soured.

Well, the economy did these folks a favor. If Vanities had actually made it to Broadway, chances are it would have been a short-lived embarrassment, like Glory Days, or disappointment, like The Story of My Life. Instead, the show gets a one-month run at a non-profit theater, New York's Second Stage, the possibility of a cast album, and a shot at a life in regional productions. Because, despite a professional presentation and a perky, talented cast of three (Lauren Kennedy, Sarah Stiles, and Anneliese Van Der Pol), Vanities is a musical that makes little lasting impression.

One of the show's key liabilities is its inoffensive but forgettable score by David Kirshenbaum (Summer of '42). It's hard to pin down exactly what's wrong with the score, because it's pleasant enough in performance. But the songs don't stick, either in terms of memorability or in serving a dramatic purpose. Part of the problem could be that the score only intermittently reflects the time period in which the scenes are set. It doesn't grow in its cultural influences as you might expect from a musical that spans the 1960s through the 1980s. There are some Burt Bacharach touches in some of the orchestrations during the '60s portion of the show, but after that the generic score becomes timeless, but not in a good way. It doesn't help that Kirshenbaum throws in such anachronisms as "living large" and "chatty Cathy" well before these terms came about.

Even worse, the songs don't tell the story, they stop it. Every number feels like a digression from the plot rather than something that enhances it. I'm not saying that Vanities shouldn't have been a musical, but the current score doesn't add much to the drama or to our understanding of these characters.

The score might have seemed less egregious had the surrounding text had greater depth. The main problem with Jack Heifner's book, which is based on his 1976 play of the same name, is that there really isn't any drama until about an hour into the show. Before that, we just see these three high school friends graduate, attend college, and head off into the world to inevitably and predictably grow apart. But when the drama finally comes, it's really too late for us to start caring. In the show's pivotal scene at a New York penthouse apartment, the girls finally have a knock-down drag-out fight, and things start to get interesting. But in the following scene, all is forgiven and we're forced to accept an artificially easy reconciliation. Then it's off to the final number, chockablock with platitudes, and the characters walk off into the sunset together. That's right: they literally walk off into the sunset. Oy.  

The problems with the score and the book are probably so systemic that no director could have fixed them. Even so, Judith Ivey probably wasn't the right choice of director. There's a big difference between directing a previously existing show and steering a developing work towards a final product. There are some really terrific developmental directors (Hal Prince, James Lapine) and there are directors who work better on finished material (Walter Bobbie). I'm going to give Ivey the benefit of the doubt and assume that if she's ever going to be a great director, she might be better off in the latter category.

Vanities runs at the Second Stage until August 9th. I have a feeling that, should this production produce a cast album, the show will get a decent amount of play in regional theaters. If there's no CD, this is probably the last we'll see of Vanities.

Sondheim's Road Show on CD

A new recording of a Stephen Sondheim show is always a reason to, if not celebrate, at least pay attention. And when the show itself is new, or at least contains a significant amount of fresh material, even better. So, although Road Show could not, in the strictest sense of the word, be called new, it does represent a chance to witness the latest work by our greatest living composer and lyricist.

As you may know, Road Show is the most recent version of a musical that Sondheim and librettist John Weidman have been working on for years. In fact, the score has already been recorded, under the title Bounce. Which means that we musical-theater mavens now have a terrific opportunity to compare the two recordings and witness how the show has developed over time.

Of course, the experience would be that much better if the show itself were any good. Alas, it is not. In comparing the two recordings, it's clear that the show has improved greatly since its out-of-town tryouts in Chicago and Washington, DC. Most of the changes and cuts have been for the better. But ultimately Road Show will likely take its place alongside such fascinating Sondheim failures as Anyone Can Whistle and Merrily We Roll Along: musical works that have a tremendous amount going for them, but somehow never have, and never will, work as shows.

As is true with most Sondheim scores, repeated hearings of the Road Show recording have revealed a great deal of substance and subtext. I was particularly struck by Sondheim's use of leitmotif, or in this particular case contrafactum: the songs "Gold" and "Land Boom" share the same melody, as do a few other sections of the show that all connote some sort of persuasion or salesmanship. Although most of the show's ballads remain colorless and dull, Sondheim has tuned up considerably the show's uptempo musical sequences, including "Addison's Trip" and "I Love This Town," which here becomes the rousing "That Was a Year." There have also been a number of wisely excised numbers in the transition from Bounce to Road Show, including "Opportunity," "What's Your Rush," and "Next to You."

But I'm still left with the same overall impression I had when I saw the show at the Public Theater: that this is a show that must have seemed compelling on paper, but that fails to bring its characters and subject matter to sympathetic life. (Read my review) The key problem with Road Show is that we don't care about these people. I watched the show and listened to the CD with academic interest, but I never found myself actually feeling for anyone, despite the cast of theater pros, led by Alexander Gemignani and Michael Cerveris.

Of course, Stephen Sondheim could stop working entirely and still be the most important figure in musical theater of the past 50 years. His contributions to the form have been immeasurable, both in terms of his own professional output and his influence on other creators. How fortunate we would be if he could someday create another show on par with his best. If not, his rich and ample body of work remains to satisfy and inspire for generations to come.

Chess in Concert With Josh Groban

Let me get this out of the way up front: as a musical, Chess doesn't work. It didn't work in London, it didn't work on Broadway, and it hasn't worked in any of the innumerable versions that have cropped up since. And it certainly doesn't work in the recently released concert version, a mostly tasteless affair partly redeemed by the music of Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson, and the presence of Josh Groban.

I pay virtually no attention to popular music, so although I was aware of Josh Groban, I had never heard any of his work. I may need to seek out some of his other stuff, because I really liked what I heard. Groban has a rich, sonorous voice and terrific stage presence. And he shows admirable restraint amid the crass production (one word: choral-ography) and histrionic cast mates surrounding him.

Leading the charge toward excess is Idina Menzel as Florence. Oh, she can scream with the best of 'em, but her style has no subtlety, and her acting skills are rudimentary at best. Close on Menzel's overwrought heels is Adam Pascal, who exhibits here the same cloying vocal catches, scoops, slurs, and growls evident in the cast recording of Rent, as well as the same cardboard acting style. Although I do have to say that there seemed to be some genuine pathos in evidence during "Pity the Child."

The appeal of Chess has always been the gorgeous, chill-inducing music by Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson, combined with Tim Rice's often-inspired but sometimes-clunky lyrics. The stripped-down book of the concert version renders the relevance of many of the songs opaque, if not incomprehensible. But even if Chess the show doesn't work, the songs do, particularly the soaring "Anthem" and the thrilling duet "You and I," both of which feature Groban to positively stirring effect.

The concert version of Chess reverts back to the structure and song list of the concept album and the London version of the show, restoring a number of admittedly fun songs that don't belong in the show, including "Embassy Lament," and "The Merchandisers," the levity of which throws off the show's tone. And "One Night in Bangkok" remains, as always, an irrelevant cheese-fest.

But the concert also includes "Someone Else's Story," which was written for the Broadway version, to be sung by Florence. However, in the concert version the song goes to Svetlana, Anatoly's wife. This makes no sense at all. Here is a song about someone deciding whether to stay or leave, but this character is not in that position; Anatoly has already left her. This change was probably made to accommodate one Kerry Ellis, who is currently playing Elphaba in the London Wicked. Which makes sense, because Ellis here has all the vocal restraint and acting talent of Idina Menzel. Which is to say, not much. 

So, there are two reasons to be interested in this concert: Josh Groban and the music. I say skip the DVD and buy the CD. Better yet, just buy the songs that have Groban on them. The folks at iTunes seem to understand this, and have priced the separate cuts accordingly: any track that features Groban costs $1.29, while the rest are 99 cents. (Heads up: All the songs are $0.99 at Amazon)

Chess has always been a show that's very close to my heart, ever since I bought the concept album in college. But I've long since given up hope that it will ever work as a show. It's probably time that the show's creators do the same.

Why File Sharing is Bad

Recently, I was reading a Washington Post article by theater critic Peter Marks about the state of the Broadway cast-album business. As regular readers may know, I have far more cast recordings than is probably wise, so I have a vested interest in this topic. Marks does a great job of setting the historical context and laying out the economic difficulties that labels face when they record and issue cast albums. It used to be that Broadway music and popular music were the same, but it's been a long time -- decades, in fact -- since that was true. 

Lately, most of the major releases we've seen have come from the likes of Kurt Deutsch at Ghostlight Records (whose recent releases include Next to Normal, In the Heights, and Hair) and Tommy Krasker at PS Classics (Xanadu, The Story of My Life, and the upcoming release of Sondheim's Road Show). Every once in a while, we get West Side Story from Sony Masterworks Broadway, or Shrek from Decca Broadway, but for the most part Broadway cast recordings of late have come from the small boutique shops above.

Which brings me to my main point: file sharing is bad. It's bad for these small, struggling companies, and it's ultimately bad for the people who love musical theater. Because, here's the bottom line: if we're not willing to buy cast albums, then we're not going to be able to buy cast albums. I hear the excuses all the time: CDs are too expensive, and how can I possibly get all the music I want if I can't pay for it. Well, you know what? Maybe that means you don't get to listen to all the music you want. We all have to live within a budget, and make purchasing choices.

I'll admit, this diatribe is purely selfish on my part. I want to continue to be able to buy cast albums and if everyone keeps sharing files, then the few remaining companies that actually do produce cast albums will either stop doing so or simply go out of business. I know that file sharing is something that's hard to stop, and that it's very tempting to join certain password-protected blogs, or online trading communities, which allow you to download music free of charge. I've been on these sites myself, and I've downloaded stuff, but only things that weren't commercially available, like demos and stuff that's been long out of print.

Human nature is what it is, and to a certain extent the music companies are fighting a losing battle: because it's so easy to download and share music, it's going to continue, and ultimately there's not a lot that the recording business can do about it. But I don't really care about pop stars and rappers. For all I care, you can share their music to your heart's content. But when it comes to musical theater, I would respectfully ask my readers (and my students) to do the right and honest thing and abstain from file sharing. In the long run, you'll thank yourself.

Review - West Side Story Revival CD

I was reasonably pleased with the current Broadway revival of West Side Story when I saw it at the National Theater in Washington, DC. (Read my review.) Not overwhelmed, but engaged. I didn't think director Arthur Laurents had achieved his announced objectives for the show (i.e. make the gang violence credible, make the sexual passion more palpable, and successfully translate much of the show into Spanish).

But I did appreciate the essential quality of the piece, Leonard Bernstein's sensational score, and Jerome Robbins' dynamic choreography, recreated by Joey McKneely. I actually think that Hair is the best revival of the current Broadway season, and fully expect the Tony voters to agree on Sunday night. But now that the CD for the West Side Story revival has come out, I've come to the opinion that West Side Story might just have the single greatest musical score of all time.

Bernstein's music is flawless, deft, and surprising, even after repeated listenings. And Stephen Sondheim's lyrics are remarkable given that he was only twenty seven when he wrote them. There's not a bad number in the bunch. Every song is, in its own way, a masterpiece. Some of Sondheim's lyrics aren't quite character-appropriate (an uneducated Puerto Rican girl in the '50s would never say "it's alarming how charming I feel"), and some of them don't quite fit the music (the phrase "wire-spoke wheel" in "America" is nearly impossible to sing clearly). By the way, these are two criticisms that Sondheim himself has made of his own work. But, on the whole, the score to West Side Story is about as good as it gets. Which is interesting when you contemplate that many people thought the score "weird" and "dissonant" when the show premiered. 

Most of the performers translate quite well to the recording, particularly Matt Cavenaugh as Tony, and Karen Olivo as Anita. Both demonstrate the strong vocal abilities that Bernstein's score deserves. Considerably less effective on the recording is Josefina Scaglione as Maria. In the theater, I found her voice sweet but thin, and the recording makes this vocal attenuation more pronounced. It's not a deal-killer, but it is a disappointment. Cody Green as Riff is every bit as indistinct as he was on stage, but Curtis Holbrook as Action manages to create a distinctive characterization that comes across well. 

Of course, the elephant in the room for this recording is the Spanish. As you may know, director Arthur Laurents brought in Lin-Manuel Miranda (In the Heights) to provide Spanish translations for significant portions of the show, including the "Tonight" quintet, "I Feel Pretty," and "A Boy Like That/I Have a Love." In my review, I decided that I thought this was a mistake, and the recording hasn't changed my opinion. Sure, speaking in foreign languages is a standard practice in opera, but it's alienating in a musical. I found myself tuning out during most of the Spanish, my three years of high-school study insufficient to help me along.

My biggest problem with the Spanish is that Miranda's new lyrics don't match the integrity of the Sondheim originals. I have to say that I was wrong when I said that Miranda's lyrics don't scan. They do scan, for the most part. But they rely rather heavily on elision, specifically the gliding of two vowel sounds together. For example, the beginning of the second stanza of the song "I Feel Pretty," which in the original Sondheim lyric goes "I feel charming, oh so charming," now has the following Spanish lyric:

Hoy me siento encantadora ("Today I feel lovely")

But to make the lyric fit the melody, Miranda has required Scaglione to elide the "-to" of "siento" and the "en-" of "encantadora," which comes off sounding like "hoy me sien-TONE-cantadora." I've sung a few Spanish pieces with various choruses over the years, and I understand that elision is an acceptable practice in Spanish music. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. And Miranda uses it nearly every stanza of the song. Plus, he uses grace notes to cram extra syllables into a line. For example:

Atrayente, atractiva sin par ("Attractive, attractive unparalleled")

This corresponds to "It's alarming how charming I feel," and it needs to be sung with an extra note ("Atrayente ah-tractiva sin par"), or with the first syllable of "atractiva" left out, to fit the meter. From where I sit, that's cheating; write a lyric that actually fits the meter of the line. Sondheim did.

Which brings me to the bonus tracks. Those of you who, like me, prefer the songs with their original Sondheim lyrics have a number of options. On iTunes, you can get "A Boy Like That/I Have a Love" in English, as well as a cut called "Jump," which is part of the "Dance at the Gym" suite. The annoying part here is that you can only get the bonus cuts when you buy the entire album. Then, over at Barnes and Noble, you can purchase a BN-only edition of the CD with the English version of "I Feel Pretty," along with instrumental tracks of "Somewhere" and "Tonight." So, to get all the tracks, at the very least you need to buy the entire recording twice. (At least if you want to do things legally. Wink.) As much as I hate to be forced to make an additional purchase, I must confess that I got both the iTunes and Barnes and Noble versions.

Obsessive, out-of-control, show-tune queen? Yeah, I can live with that.

Next to Normal Vastly Improved, But Still Biased

I know that a lot of you have been waiting for my re-review of Next to Normal. As you may know, after I posted my review of the Off-Broadway production at the Second Stage Theater, librettist/lyricist Brian Yorkey contacted me in a series of emails that started out vitriolic but eventually took on a more collegial tone.

I had some problems with the Off-Broadway version, some having to do with the execution of the show, but mostly because of the apparent anti-psychiatry bias that the Next to Normal reflected, at least in my estimation. The show's plot involves the troubles of one family as it copes with the mother's bipolar disorder.

Well, now that Next to Normal has moved to the Booth Theater on Broadway, after an engagement at the Arena Stage, I felt honor bound to revisit the show, partly to see whether it had evolved as a show qua show, but also to see if the apparent bias remained. In short, Next to Normal has greatly improved in terms of quality musical theater. In fact, it's genuinely stirring, heart-breaking at times. But although Yorkey seems to have toned down the show's anti-psychiatry tone -- considerably in fact -- I still saw numerous examples of an admittedly far more subtle bias.

Yorkey, in collaboration with composer Tom Kitt and director Michael Greif, has succeeded in making the relationships among the characters more complex, the emotions less pat. The show exhibits far better exposition and character development. There's also less forced humor: the number in which the mother character, Diana, has a would-be comic manic episode in Costco is thankfully gone, replaced by a far more moving and effective sequence in which she manically makes dozens of sandwiches. Gone too is the questionable act I finale "Feeling Electric," in which Diana has a hallucinatory episode portraying her psychiatrist as a rock star during an ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) session.

As I said, I still perceive an anti-psychiatry message in the show. It's a lot more subtle, but, in a way, that makes it more insidious. There are numerous examples throughout the show that support my contention, for instance a song in which the cast satirically sings the names of various psychoactive drugs to a tune reminiscent of "My Favorite Things." In the song "I Miss the Mountains," the mother character romanticizes the highs and lows of bipolar disorder. But the truth is the "highs" are not refreshing, they're debilitating. And the "lows" are characterized not by wistful melancholy but by active self-loathing and destruction.

But the thing that really solidified the show's bias in my mind was the audience reaction. When Diana's psychiatrist suggests ECT as a treatment, I heard audible gasps from the people around me. When doctor explained that ECT isn't the nightmare people think it is, I heard a number of people snort and tsk. Many of them seemed to me more on the side of the son character in the show, who responds to the doctor's recommendation by exclaiming "It causes brain damage!" In Yorkey's defense, the son character seems to represent a personified version of her disorder. In other words, it's the disease talking. But whether Yorkey intends it or not, the show seems to reinforce the ill-informed prejudices that people have about mental illness and its treatment. 

The show's denouement still comes off as an endorsement of Diana's reckless decision to discontinue all forms of treatment. The scene in which Diana confronts her psychiatrist has a self-righteous tone that had the people around me audibly approving of her decision. "Give me pain," one character in the show says. "It's the price we pay to feel." Yes, pain is part of life, but what's wrong with taking advantage of the treatments available to ameliorate that pain? As the psychiatrist states in the show, "medicine may not be perfect, but it's all we have." There are certainly gray areas in this topic, but going it alone is a dangerous option to advocate.

All that said, I still think Next to Normal is an eminently worthy show, one that I encourage anyone who cares about the future of musical theater to see. There were quite a few times during the show when I was moved to tears, including during the numbers "He's Not Here" and "How Could I Ever Forget." The show received 11 Tony nominations this morning, and deservedly so. It's the most artistically ambitious of all the nominees for best musical. (The other nominees are Billy Elliot, Rock of Ages, and surprisingly Shrek, which beat out 9 to 5 for the fourth slot.) Will N2N stop the juggernaut that is Billy Elliot from scooping up every last award? We'll have to wait until June 7th to see.

Ain't Misbehavin' at Boston's Strand

Last night, I caught a performance of the 30th anniversary tour of Ain't Misbehavin'. I've always been a big fan of the show, and fortunately have a video of the TV broadcast of the original Ain't Misbehavin' cast performing it. Although the current cast members don't fully live up to their original counterparts (how could they?), they nonetheless do a bang-up job of evincing the joy and vitality of the piece.

The Boston stop of the national tour of Ain't Misbehavin' is part of a joint effort by the City of Boston and the Citi Performing Arts Center to renovate and revitalize the Strand Theater, an underutilized gem located in Dorchester, a neighborhood with a significant African American population.

The show is part of a larger program of African American-related events called SpectrumBoston.org, which also features the upcoming Boston premiere of The Color Purple. (The Color Purple, however, will not play the Strand, but rather the cavernous Wang Theater.) It was great to see so many African Americans in attendance at Ain't Misbehavin', and having a grand old time, at that. I would love to see more such efforts in Boston to bring professional theater outside of the narrow confines of the theater district and the South End.

Of course, many of the attendees had come to see "American Idol" winner Ruben Studdard, in the Ken Page role. Studdard is certainly no Ken Page, but he's strong vocally and has a playful presence. Most of the comedy in the role, however, was lost to Studdard's poor diction and obvious lack of stage experience. Studdard wasn't alone in this regard. The one major issue I had with this production was that, while the lyrics were, for the most part, intelligible, most of creator Richard Maltby's priceless asides were lost to indistinct delivery. 

The tour also features two additional Idol alumni, the talented Trenyce Cobbins in the Charlaine Woodard role, and Frenchie Davis in the role originated by the late great Nell Carter. Davis was out for the performance I saw, but we instead got to see the terrific Teresa Stanley. The cast also features the dynamic Arthur W. Marks and the adorable Patrice Covington in the Andre de Shields and Armelia McQueen roles, respectively.

Overall, I was struck by the strength of the piece itself, which was created and directed by Richard Maltby at the top of his form. Surely, this is one of the most entertaining and effective revues in musical theater history, eschewing obligatory exposition in favor of a straightforward celebration of the music and artistry of Fats Waller.

Matlby is greatly aided by the superb work of orchestrator Luther Henderson and choreographer Arthur Faria whose collective efforts coalesce into a seamless evening of joy and good humor. Henderson's arrangement of "Black and Blue" is nothing less than stirring, and sent shivers through my body. In a show full of movement, the creators have chosen on this number the have the performers sit still and let Waller's heartbreaking song and Henderson's stunning vocal arrangement do the work.

For the most part, the performances in the current production are sharp, and the staging crisp. And, despite the presence of three "American Idol"-ers, the vocal histrionics were kept to a refreshing minimum. I was initially afraid that this production would be a slapdash effort to capitalize on waning celebrity, but was heartened by the genuine craft and care in evidence. Thankfully, the creators haven't changed the show to suit the talents of the stars, preferring instead to let the piece speak for itself. The show remains a lasting testament to the genius of Waller, as well as that of the creators.

In other news, the tour produced a recently released cast recording, which is currently available only at Amazon.com. The admittedly talented cast comes off considerably less well on the recording, or perhaps that simply my ingrained bias for the original Broadway cast recording talking. Amid the thousands of Broadway CDs that I own, Ain't Misbehavin' is undoubtedly in the top ten for me in terms of recordings that I actually listen to. Maybe even the top five. I find I go back to the CD whenever I need a jolt of joy, and it never fails me. If the national tour comes to your town, I highly recommend that you see it, but as for a permanent record of Waller's music and career, it's all about the OBC.